Alaric walked down the vast hallway leading to another room not far ahead. Soon, he found himself in a large room with tables and chairs spaced out, attendants and healers stood by, awaiting anyone who might need care after the final exam. It appeared to be a waiting area.
Scanning the room, Alaric noticed several hundred students seated. Some were in groups, while a few sat alone, isolated from the rest. His eyes quickly spotted a few notable faces from the exam: Triston Montclair, surrounded by his usual entourage of admirers, basking in the attention; Blane Ingram, as always, trying to make himself invisible; and a few others who had piqued his interest during the trials.
Upon entering, Alaric barely drew attention. A few curious glances were cast in his direction, some lingering as they recognized him, but most quickly dismissed his presence.
He chose a random seat and sank into it, pale and short of breath. His little performance earlier had taken its toll. Though the spectacle came with interest.
'Still worth it!'
He sighed. His own reserves would replenish naturally anyway.
Alaric closed his eyes for a moment, sinking into the chair while a woman dressed in the healer's garb approached him.
"Are you injured? You look pale."
"Just low on Ether," Alaric said, waving her off. "I'll be fine."
She hesitated, then gave a polite nod and moved on.
'What a day to be alive,' he thought wryly, letting a faint smirk cross his lips. The irony of it all—coming so close to death and yet feeling more alive than ever—didn't escape him. His new life was just beginning, and with it came the weight of endless possibilities.
More students trickled in, first in ones and twos, then in clusters. The room slowly filled with chatter, some triumphant, while others in nervous excitement. The atmosphere shifted from anxious murmurs to full-blown chaos in minutes. Friends reunited. Rivals ignored each other.
Alaric's gaze swept over the room. The exam had ended, and now all that was left was the final assessment.
'Time must be flowing faster in there,' he thought, noting the steady stream of arrivals.
Eventually, the flow stopped. The room settled into a buzz of anticipation, the kind that precedes something inevitable.
Halfway through the wait, Alaric noticed something odd. More and more students began glancing his way mid-conversation. Some tried to be subtle, others less so. A few looked like they wanted to approach him, only to think better of it at the last second. Even some of the popular ones gave him second glances, their expressions varying between curiosity and mild consideration.
Naturally, he responded in the only reasonable way.
He grinned at them.
Not just any grin—no, it was the kind of grin that made people question their life choices. The "is he about to murder someone or flirt with them?" kind of grin. Charming in the worst way possible.
'Must be the ones who saw me being awesome back there,' he thought, pleased. 'I know I'm amazing, but let's try to be subtle about it, yeah?'
His more shameless side swelled with pride. It wasn't celebrity status by any means, but being low key infamous among a bunch of adolescents had its own flavor of satisfaction.
And then, the distraction ended.
A glowing projection shimmered into existence above the center of the room. Names began to scroll into view, each accompanied by a series of scores and a final rank. The admission list.
The room fell silent, as if the very air had been sucked out.
No one moved. The weight of a thousand hopes anchored them in place.
Alaric didn't flinch. He knew his name would be there.
Some students jumped to their feet, crowding around the projection. Others remained seated, eyes locked onto the floating list. A few gripped the edges of their chairs like lifelines. Around him, the tension became a living thing.
The silence broke with scattered gasps, some joyful, others crushed.
Alaric opened his eyes and tilted his head toward the list. The top scorers were no surprise: Triston Montclair sat smugly at number one. Lyana Nognes just behind. Another kid named Malcolm Turner followed closely. Fourth place went to the Drayton girl.
'Interesting.'
He skimmed the rankings, noting the familiar names populating the top ten. Then he found it.
Luther Kingsley – Rank 17 – 248 points.
Written: 86%.
Mental Fortitude: 12%.
Final Attack: 98%.
Core Potential: 52%.
About what he expected. The mental test had tanked his average with that weird dream of his, but he'd more than made up for it in combat. His Ether core reading was modest at best.
'Perfect.'
Blane Ingram on the other hand, not so surprisingly… ranked dead last, but the craziest part was he still got in!
Then footsteps. An attendant stepped forward, calm and composed. His voice carried easily through the hall.
"For those of you whose names did not appear on the list," he began, "this is not the end. The path of an Etherist is rarely a straight line. While you did not succeed today, this does not define your future."
The words were kind, but they did little to soften the blow. A few students nodded, hollow-eyed. Most just sat, frozen in that strange limbo between denial and reluctant acceptance.
"The academy recognizes your effort," the attendant went on, his tone practiced but not unkind. "You may reapply next cycle. The doors remain open to those who continue to grow."
Then came the gentle execution: "If your name was not listed, please follow me. We'll provide the necessary information before your departure."
One by one, the rejected students rose. Some walked with dignity, heads held high. Others leaned on friends for support. A few didn't move at all until someone tugged them to their feet. As they filtered out, the air in the room shifted, it was lighter now, though not entirely free of tension. The weight of failure had simply relocated.
It was the same man who overlooked their written examination. The quiet chatter that had begun to build among the students immediately fell silent.
"Congratulations," the man said, his voice deep and authoritative, echoing just enough to remind them all who was in charge. "You have passed the final exam and have been accepted into Eldrynn Academy. This is no small feat. Each of you has proven yourselves worthy of this honor."
He paused, letting the gravity settle. Then, with the practiced cadence of someone who had delivered the same speech a hundred times, he continued:
"However, do not think for a moment that your trials are over. Eldrynn will test you in ways you cannot yet imagine. This academy is not for the complacent, nor the weak-willed. Your journey has only just begun."
Alaric almost rolled his eyes at the statement.
"Now," the lecturer said, cutting to the heart of the matter, "you will be escorted to your dormitories. You will have the remainder of the week to settle in, but come next week, your lectures will begin. Your schedules will be provided to you upon arrival."
A few murmurs spread throughout the room, students shifting in their seats as they processed the information.
"One final thing," the lecturer added, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Remember this: the bonds you form here, the alliances you create, they will be your greatest strength. Learn to rely on one another, for no one survives at Eldrynn alone."
With that, he gave a sharp nod and gestured to an attendant at the door. "You will be led to your respective dorms now. Follow the instructions given to you, and prepare yourselves for what lies ahead."
The students began to rise from their seats, a sense of anticipation rippling through them. Some chatted excitedly in hushed tones, while others remained silent, contemplating the path that awaited them. Alaric stood up, adjusting his robes. His expression remained unreadable.